


all this time

by xighs



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Pining, Rare Pairings, Zuko (Avatar)-centric, Zuko is an Awkward Turtleduck
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-25
Updated: 2020-06-25
Packaged: 2021-03-03 19:07:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,409
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24910576
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xighs/pseuds/xighs
Summary: “I just want you to know that I’m here for you,” she reasons, and it’s soft, and it’s gentle, and it’s almost desperate as her next words come out in one rushed plea,“Please know that I’m a friend.”And Zuko wonders why this doesn’t comfort him at all. Wonders why this disappoints him instead. Those words he secretly yearns for all his life; someone to lean on, someone to depend, someone to share burdens with, someone to share laughter, someone tohold-He wants to hold her.But not as a friend.
Relationships: Jin/Zuko (Avatar)
Comments: 13
Kudos: 252
Collections: avatar tingz





	all this time

**Author's Note:**

> what's up my fellow jinkos, yes this is the author of wide and bright and molten gold speaking-
> 
> i am back on my jinko bullshit. life is good
> 
> (play this [song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lADytS-Fyg4) during the scene where zuko runs after her, please, i beg of u)

“Hi, I’m Jin,” she smiles warmly, “the new server.”

Zuko nods stiffly, acknowledging the new employee. “I’m Lee,” he replies, then gesturing towards Iroh, “and this is my uncle, Mushi-”

 _“Ahm,”_ Iroh clears his throat. “But you can just call me Uncle,” he chuckles, nudging Zuko’s elbow in reprimand. “Everyone does!”

Jin laughs along, light and easy, “No worries, _Uncle,”_ she winks, obviously amused.

Pao Family Tea House has been gaining popularity lately after Iroh got promoted to official tea maker. They’ve been gaining hordes of customers ever since so eventually they’d needed more staff to handle the growing crowd.

Zuko didn’t think much of her at first, and never thought of making friends - it was the last thing on his mind right now.

Every day they are not somehow caught in their act is a relief to him. That’s what’s most important.

Their temporary freedom.

Not attracting any attention to themselves, blending in as much as possible, as inconspicuous as they can be - though Iroh simply _refuses_ to downplay his art of impeccable tea brewing (probably the only thing Zuko _could_ _allow_ to slip) - just trying to make it through each day in hiding without any threat to their safety or to their lives.

Living in mundane refuge here in the earth kingdom have just been nothing more than a means of bare survival at most.

And Zuko is grateful for what they can get away with - for what they’ve managed to get away with till now. It seems like a miracle. A momentary one, though.

He just hopes this can go on awhile longer, with what little solace they can attain, amidst all the risks they are already taking.

“Hey, you okay?” Jin asks one time, catching Zuko in pensive thought. She has her head tilted questioningly at him, but her expression is soft, not meaning to intrude, _just-_

“It’s just that you’ve been doing that a lot lately,” she shrugs, smile apologetic, reaching out for the tray that was meant for Zuko to take. “Don’t worry, I got it,” she murmurs under her breath, leaning in to him before swiftly side stepping away.

Zuko stiffens at the brief invasion of personal space, expression unguarded, staring at her as she walks off, unaffected.

She seems to be doing that a lot lately.

Doing Zuko’s job for him. Doing Zuko’s job _better_ than him, even.

Easily making small talk with customers, laughing at every bad joke Uncle throws at her, just getting along with everybody so effortlessly that Zuko… Well, it’s _ridiculous_ for him to feel even remotely jealous, isn’t it?

It’s not like he cares.

He doesn’t.

Why is he even _bothered_ if someone else does a menial job better than him anyway?

It’s not like she’s _Azula_ vying for father’s favour and gaining it through sharp intellect and prodigious firebending or anything. It’s incomparable.

This is merely _customer service,_ for crying out loud.

But when Jin does it again, offhandedly telling him that _she’s got it,_ Zuko decides that he’s had enough of her charity. “I don’t need your help,” he snaps, side eyeing her, eyebrows creased, before turning around and stalking off with his order.

Jin stands there, stunned.

Iroh, after overhearing their exchange, strides over to her side in no time, resting a hand on her shoulder. _“My nephew…_ he can be…,” he apologizes, sighing heavily. “He has been through a lot.”

Jin lifts her hand up over her shoulder to cover his with her own, turning to face him. “I can imagine,” she muses, expression sympathetic, uncovering his hand to hesitantly move upwards to touch the left side of her face, indicating his scar. She can’t even bring herself to say it.

Iroh could only solemnly nod.

“Is there...,” Jin trails off, contemplative. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

Iroh beams, a thought coming into mind. “How old are you, my dear?”

Jin blinks, caught off guard by the sudden question. “Seventeen, why?”

“Ah, my nephew,” Iroh starts. “He is also seventeen.”

He holds her puzzled gaze for a moment before continuing on, “I am sure you have plenty of friends around your age too…,” he reckons, the sides of his mouth curving upwards into a knowing grin. “I would love for my nephew to meet more people his age,” he goes on. “Do you think you could introduce them to him?”

“I…,” Jin gulps, mildly regretting her offer to help at the direction _this_ is going, not really what she had in mind. “My friends are not _exactly-”_

“I would _most_ appreciate it,” Iroh pushes, persuasive.

Jin takes a moment to search for words to evade his favour but sighs in the end, slowly relenting. She can’t find it in herself to say no to Uncle’s pleading face.

“I’ll try.”

* * *

Zuko doesn’t need friends.

He’s perfectly capable living life in refuge _without_ them.

His only family right now is _Uncle,_ and that’s all that counts at the moment.

“I mean,” Jin runs her fingers anxiously through her hair, not meeting his eyes, “it’s okay if you’re not into it, I just thought- Well-” She stammers. “If you’re not doing anything later-”

“How long is this movie,” Zuko narrows his eyes suspiciously at Jin.

She meets his eyes then. “An hour or two?”

He takes a step back, considering. “Where do we-”

“I’ll meet you out the shop after sundown?” She offers. “We’ll meet my friends there.”

Zuko’s mouth hardens in one line. “Alright.”

The sides of Jin’s lips twitches upward into a hesitant smile, bracing herself for tonight. “See you.”

* * *

Jin looks different.

Instead of her usual pigtails, her hair is worn down, her brunette locks cascading below her back.

“Hey,” she greets, easy, “I hope I didn’t keep you waiting long.”

Zuko grunts, averting his eyes away from her. “You didn’t.”

It’s still pretty awkward. They’re not really friends per se. She’s just someone he works with.

 _“Whoa,”_ she acts quick, latching onto his arm to pull him close to the sidewalk, “watch out.”

A cabbage cart hurtles past, almost running into Zuko had Jin not intervened.

He tenses up at the proximity of her behind him, skin rising in gooseflesh at her breath against his nape, and he flinches apart, uncomfortable. “Um,” he hastily mumbles, “thanks.”

She shoots him a brief smile, still at ease. They continue walking together in silence.

The night is still so young that the stars aren’t even out yet.

They walk side by side, untouching.

“You know, I…,” Jin reminisces, thoughts drifting off, “You see that shophouse over there,” she points to the slanted one up ahead that looks haphazardly jutted out from the rest. “When I first took refuge here in the Lower Ring, that was the first group home I was placed in.”

Zuko’s eyebrows furrow, frowning. “I’m sorry,” he starts, “are you…”

She looks up to the darkening sky. The stars are slowly coming out one by one. “Yeah, I’m an orphan. I lost my parents to the war.”

“Jin-”

She bumps her shoulder to his reassuringly, a rueful smile strewn across her lips. “They’re in a much better place now. Nothing to feel sorry about anymore.”

Zuko huffs out a breath, and it fogs the air in front of him.

It’s getting colder.

He’s not good at comforting strangers but he thinks Jin doesn’t need much comforting to begin with.

“You seem so independent,” he admits, voice low.

She laughs, light and airy. “I could say the same to you.”

“I…,” he trains his eyes to the ground. “I still depend on my uncle.”

“At least you still have family who cares,” she mutters, almost self-deprecatingly, before realizing how that might come off. She turns to him, regretting at how ungrateful she must sound. “I didn’t mean to-”

“It’s okay,” Zuko cuts, shoving both hands into his pockets.

They continue on their walk.

“We all have our stories, right?” She contemplates, thoughtful.

Zuko thinks of running from town to town, of begging in the streets, of digging for scraps, of near starvation, of blue fires inching closer to him, of his cover eventually blown and thinks _yes-_

_We all have our stories._

* * *

Zuko never knew this was even a _thing_ on Friday nights in the Lower Ring.

They’re at the city park, lounging on top of a stray mat spread across the grass, amongst the crowd of several other groups of people huddled on their own.

A thin sheet of white canvas is erected at the very front of the park, while an apparatus consisting of a system of lenses stands hoisted in the middle, projecting rays of light onto the screen to display grainy motion graphics of a new movie premiere.

Zuko doesn’t keep up with trend.

To his left sits Jin who is completely immersed in the movie, laughing in between comic scenes and subconsciously chewing on her lip and tensing up during suspenseful ones. She’s eating shelled, dry-roasted sunflower seeds that they purchased at a nearby vendor, passing the bag around their group as each one plunges a hand in to scoop up their share.

One of them, Jet, obviously has a _thing_ for her, Zuko notes, by the way he dotes on her at times - asking her if she’s cold, or if the snacks are enough, “I could grab us a box of dumplings, if you want,” he offers, to which she casually replies to not worry about it.

And then there’s the inseparable duo, Smellerbee and Longshot, the spunky one and the quiet one, regularly darting cautious, curious looks at Zuko, specifically to his _scar,_ not quite warming up to him just yet.

Zuko’s just the same.

He doesn’t blame them.

“Say, _Lee,”_ Jet drawls on the common name, a dark glint in his eyes as he side glances Zuko. “Where’d you say you were from again?”

Jin elbows Jet, eyes still glued to the screen. “He doesn’t owe us a backstory.”

“Hey, nobody said anything about _owing_ anyone shit,” Jet sneers, an insincere grin on his face as he raises his hands up in mock defence. “I’m just tryna make friends here-”

“I’m from the outskirts,” Zuko counters, an impatient bite in his tone.

Jet’s head tilts lazily back at him even more. _“Oh?_ Where about?”

“It’s a small village,” Zuko supplies curtly. “You wouldn’t know it.”

 _“Try_ me,” Jet smirks.

Zuko fixes his glare on him then, anger riling.

 _“Jeez,_ Jet,” Smellerbee glances between Jet and Zuko, “quit messing arou-”

_“Your amber eyes don’t look like earth kingdom to me-”_

Zuko lunges in across from Jin to strike a punch smack onto Jet’s smug face before he could finish, receiving a following hit to the stomach himself.

It takes _all_ of Zuko’s restraint to not unleash fire from his fists and proving Jet’s suspicions right.

* * *

“Not my best idea,” Jin declares, tipping a cup over to soak more water onto the cloth to bring it back up to Zuko’s bloodied face, cleaning the open cuts and wounds there amidst unsightly purpling bruises.

His scowl seems to have settled permanently across his features, battered and worn.

When Jin gently tilts his cheek at a better angle to reach across the smear of blood along his jaw, she wonders briefly if it’s his or Jet’s.

“The movie was good, though?” She tries for levity.

Zuko jerks his head back to glare at her pointedly, dragging the cloth along his skin and staining a sharp trail of crimson across its pale expanse.

Jin’s expression softens, but her eyes are still firm on his. “Just trying to find a bright side to this.”

“There _is_ no bright side to this,” he snarls, bitter.

“We could do something different next time-”

Zuko grabs and pulls at the cloth from her hands, hastily unfolding it so it spreads open at all corners, impulsively smothering it onto his face in a rash, frustrated manner, doing an abysmal job at cleaning blood off himself, before abruptly standing up to leave the room.

“There _is_ no next time.”

* * *

Zuko isn’t bothered by the fact that Jin’s not really talking to him.

And he definitely isn’t bothered by her premeditated efforts to avoid running into him in the shop whenever she can help it.

They dance and skirt around each other during work throughout the day, careful not to get into each other’s way, moving like clockwork as they swerve and weave past each other as if even just a mere accidental graze on the elbow could _singe their skin through fabric._

Weeks after weeks go by this way, but Zuko isn’t keeping count.

He certainly doesn’t make it a habit to stare absentmindedly at Jin whenever she loosens her hair down on Fridays after her shift where she’ll spend nights at city park with her friends watching outdoor movie screenings.

He certainly doesn’t notice the way Iroh’s jokes sometimes elicit a laughter so hearty from Jin that her face dusts a pretty shade of pink starting from her nose, then spreading outwards to her cheeks.

He doesn’t pay heed to the immediate softening of her expression on the rare occasion of whenever their eyes meet for a fraction of a chance second during work before collecting themselves and carrying on with their evasive maneuvering from each other, business as usual.

He is most certainly convinced that he’s completely indifferent to the mysterious box of earl grey cupcakes with lemon buttercream frosting spelling _I’M SORRY_ sitting at the foot of his bed one day after work.

 _Iroh,_ he figures, knowing his uncle must be in on this delivery.

He actually makes an effort to frown, half-heartedly though, mostly just curious as to _how she’d find the time to bake these anyway ._

Zuko fingers one with the _I’M_ written on top then brings the confection up to his lips, availing himself to a bite, frosting caught on his upper lip. He flicks his tongue up to lick it clean, surprised to find the cupcake to not taste as sugary as it looks.

Instead it tastes light with a pleasant citrus tinge, accompanied by a refreshing aftertaste with each bite.

She must’ve used essence of bergamot oil - he could tell - from the tea shop’s ready stock of black tea blend used to brew earl grey on the menu.

Zuko finds himself enjoying it, surprisingly.

He mentions it in passing to Jin the next day, but Jin being smooth and vague as ever, replies instead, “What cupcakes?” But she’s smiling in good humour, sarcastic, as she glides past him to tend to the customer at the nearest table, just close enough to touch him; but like always, never does, and as he catches the scent of lemon in his air of proximity, Zuko can’t help the inkling of an ironic smile playing at the sides of his lips.

 _Huh,_ he offhandedly thinks.

* * *

It’s Friday after their shift, the evening sun’s rays filtering orange bursts of early twilight into the tea shop, drenching the room in sepia.

Zuko has finally finished sweeping the floorboards clean, when he catches Jin staring at her reflection on one of the glass cabinets, untying her ponytail to let her hair free, finger combing it through while she’s at it, running past all the tangles.

Her wrap dress has gotten loose throughout the day, its neckline slinking downwards in a lowcut, so she deftly unfastens then retightens her sash to fix that, pulling it snug onto her body.

“Enjoy your movie, my dear!” Iroh calls out to her, waving as she’s about to leave.

She smiles at him and waves back, chastising him not to touch on the acrylic jars of cured tea leaves she just arranged in alphabetical order, expecting to see them immaculately in their designated places the next day. _She has a system, you see._

“Wouldn’t dream of it!” Iroh chuckles.

And when she turns her head back front, her eyes unintentionally catch onto Zuko’s and with the faint of a laugh still lingering on her lips, she nods, a bit too formally, and bids him goodnight.

Zuko wants to reach out, say something-

 _Say what?_ He thinks dumbly to himself, but instead he elects to remain frozen in place, broom in one hand, the other momentarily suspended in mid-air before resolutely brought down to his side in his dejection.

He feels a presence slowly approaching from behind him and he turns, staring back at Iroh.

His uncle makes a show of deliberately crossing his arms, then raising a hand up to perch thoughtfully against his chin as he ponders aloud, “Shouldn’t you be chasing her?”

Zuko scowls, shaking his head from his trance, cursing under his breath as he bolts out the front door after Jin.

* * *

He runs, desperate almost, breathless as he snakes through the crowd of people headed towards the direction of city park.

He spots her layered brunette locks and the back of her green dress up front, then loses sight of her again as the horde closes in. He grunts, frustrated, dodging past bodies in hopes of catching up to Jin, just struggling as he trudges forward with one single pursuit in mind, rudely slamming into shoulders and sparing no thought to say _sorry_ while he’s at it, inducing a flurry of insults thrown at his way, but barely even registering them anyway what with the clamour of noises drowning them out.

He catches a glimpse of a familiar side profile belonging to just the person he’s after and impulsively reaches an arm out towards the said person, clasped onto the crook of her elbow to hastily spin her around to face him, movements clumsy but grip solid.

They stare at each other nose to nose, and his throat dries up immediately, like a defence mechanism, at his bold intrusion of her space, and he tries to step back, _believe me, I’m trying,_ his eyes seem to say as they squint in his chagrin, awkward and admittedly embarrassed to have barged in on her like this, but _honestly-_ the crowd isn’t letting up, and he can’t help that he’s being _pressed in-_

He’s grappling for space that wouldn’t give and she-

Her hands fling up, holding on to his, steadying him close, and she’s calm and composed while he’s failing miserably at masking his panic-

Her face is near his and she smells like lemons.

Zuko feels his palms sweating up.

“Hi,” she breathes a whisper that he wouldn’t have possibly caught past the crowd’s commotion if he weren’t reading her lips, again with that soft expression she reserves just for him, and _maybe,_ just _maybe-_

_Could it be because-_

“I’m supposed to meet my friends there but,” she considers, lowering her hands down and letting her hold on him go (Zuko finds himself aching at the loss of contact), “I could always stand them up for you,” easy, mocking laughter escapes her lips at the irony of it all, and Zuko balks under her gaze, but it’s not judgemental, it’s not skeptical, it’s just-

 _Shit, maybe she really_ does _think this is funny._

“I would like that,” he hears himself say before it’s too late to retract his words.

Jin laughs again at Zuko’s attempt at camaraderie and tips her head front in gesture to her words, “Let’s go.”

* * *

“Listen,” she sighs, “I really am sorry about that day.”

It seems like a million years ago and though she may seem like she’s moved past it, Zuko can tell that it still bothers her, more so than she claims.

Her eyes are trained to the screen, watching the movie while he’s watching her beside him as she slowly lets down her guard - he gets a peek into her insecurities for the first time.

It seems almost familiar.

Too familiar.

Like watching his own reflected back.

Her arms are leisurely propped by her sides, fingers splayed across the straw mat, inches from his thigh as he sits crossed legged next to her.

She’s doing it again. Nearing his vicinity in small gestures like these but never crossing the line.

“It was rushed,” she starts, shrugging, “I wasn’t even thinking straight when I first proposed it, your uncle asked-”

“-My uncle asked what?” He interrupts, shifting in his seat, frowning.

She peels her eyes off the screen, turning her head sideways as she stares at him from the corner of her eye.

“You can’t blame him… He just wanted you to loosen up, have fun, make friends,” Jin brings a hand up to absently run her fingers through her hair, contemplating her next words, “be a normal teenager for once-”

Zuko stirs, eyebrows furrowed deeper. “You don’t know _anything_ about me.”

Jin turns to fully, properly face him then, body leaning in. “-because you _deserve_ to be,” she finishes, voice stern, eyes locked on his. “I know it’s hard starting life over. I know what it feels like as a new refugee - I’ve _been_ there before,” she continues. “Not my best formative years.”

“Jin,” he groans, not liking the turn of conversation. “I’m sorry you had to go through all that so young but-” He rasps, throat going dry again. “You don’t understand-” His voice breaks off. “What I’m going through, what I’m _running_ _from,_ it’s-”

 _“Hey,”_ she reprimands, raising her palm up to his cheek, feeling him shake under her. “We all have our stories.”

And before Zuko knows it, he has his hand up to cover hers, pressed against it so firmly he thinks the outline of her palm will stay moulded onto his skin once she releases her hold.

She doesn’t.

Not yet.

“I just want you to know that I’m here for you,” she reasons, and it’s soft, and it’s gentle, and it’s almost desperate as her next words come out in one rushed plea, _“Please know that I’m a friend.”_

And Zuko wonders why this doesn’t comfort him at all.

Wonders why this disappoints him instead.

Those words he secretly yearns for all his life; someone to lean on, someone to depend, someone to share burdens with, someone to share laughter, someone to _hold-_

He wants to hold her.

But not as a friend.

Maybe he wants something more.

_“I…”_

Maybe he’s selfish.

_“Jin, I don’t just want to be friends...”_

Maybe he’s losing his goddamn mind.

Comprehension dawns on her face, creasing her features for a split second before they’re smoothed over once more. Always cool. Always collected.

Jin in all her calmness, all her nonchalance, all her grace, all her poise.

It unnerves him at her lack of reaction - he expected something, _at least_ something _from her-_

_Anything-_

Zuko feels his heart sink, his stomach gutted in a twist, his throat closing up on him on reflex, and feels all hope slip from his fingertips like sands trickling down a broken, shattered hourglass that serves no use; bottomless, aimless, purposeless - _pointless._

An hourglass that can’t even measure time.

What was Zuko even _thinking_ bringing it up in the first place? _How could he be so_ careless-

He’s been pushing her away for so long, it seems only fair for her to refuse him now.

But Zuko isn’t unfamiliar with rejection.

He’s been rejected by his _father,_ his _sister,_ even his own _mother_ inadvertently rejected him by choosing to run away instead when she’d sworn to _love_ him, sworn to _protect_ him, sworn to _care_ for him at his most vulnerable, knowing how cruel the royal family can be - _and leaving him in their clutches anyway, vying for her own escape._

He shouldn’t feel surprised with all the rejection he’s received in his life when it’s finally come down to this.

He has no reason to.

This isn’t something new.

So when he catches her eyes fall to his lips… _he shouldn’t feel surprised._

When she slides her hand further down his nape… _he shouldn’t feel surprised._

When she steadily tilts his head at an angle and leans in to meet his lips… _he shouldn’t feel surprised._

She tastes like lemon and he isn’t surprised at all.

He cranes his neck further down to deepen the kiss like he’s hungry for it and he isn’t surprised at all.

His arms envelope her waist instinctively at the heat of the moment and he isn’t surprised at all.

The neckline of her dress then drops to one side as their kissing grow more passionate and who is he kidding, who is he kidding, _who is he kidding-_

_He has never been more surprised in his whole life._

And yet, it still puzzles him-

_How can he be so surprised but so sure about this at the same time?_

He is sure in the way he pries her mouth open wider.

He is sure in the way he slips a hot tongue right in.

He is sure in the way he so boldly explores the walls of her mouth without hesitation, in the way their tongues collide, in the way he bites and pulls against it, in the way he nibbles down onto her lower lip, and-

They _have_ to part for air eventually, and _when they do,_ Zuko just can’t seem to _stop,_ even then-

Jin draws in short breaths while he’s already working his way down along her slender neck, not missing a beat, her skin growing more sensitive towards that area, mouthing down wet, ardent trails of kisses till he reaches her exposed collarbone where her dress had slipped, and he settles on a suck there, nestling his face between the crook of her neck-

Jin has her hands tangled in his hair, panting as she reluctantly pulls his head back when she feels him thread suggestively lower.

 _“Public,”_ she rasps in reminder, voice heavy with want, eyes glazed as she stares down at him.

Zuko’s hands slither up her sides until they find her blushed face, and they hold her there as he leans his forehead in, pressing a kiss to her lips, once, twice, _three times, four-_

Jin laughs weakly against him as he leans in for the fifth.

“All this time?” She murmurs, soft, breathless, lovingly rubbing the back of his head with fingers still intertwined in raven locks, absentminded, but soothing.

He wants to taste her once more, wants the lush folds of her lips upon his again, and again - _and_ _again._

It feels like it took him _forever_ to realize this.

What his heart truly wants now more than ever.

“All this time.”

**Author's Note:**

> i wanted them to smooch and they DID and now im happy
> 
> (ALSO THIS IS PUBLIC GUYS- PLEASE-)
> 
> (i swear to god zuko was gonna TAKE HER RIGHT THEN AND THERE)


End file.
